Le Musique De Le Nuit
by Young-and-Beautiful13
Summary: What if Christine had chosen the phantom? In my story, read from thier perspective. Can she must prove what the Phantom may never believe?
1. Back To Her Angel

She was dreaming. No, how could that be so, for her heart was still pounding in her chest like she was awake and her eyes envisioned the phantom and Raoul before her. She could not be dreaming.

"You try my patience! Choose!"

Tears streamed silently down her face, her brown eyes met his sky blue orbs. _How could he be so cruel? _She wondered. In her reflection on him she felt drawn to the man, this man with such an abhorrent face that his own mother never loved him. Her thoughts changed, and instead she felt compassion. He had not known a life of happiness. Or what life had he known? She remembered the stage, with his hands wandering over her body. Her face was already a light crimson from anguish now tinted deeper at the thought. She could not let anyone die for her. But then she thought, _is this truly a sacrifice? I feel for this man, though I have not yet conceived how deep my affection is. Raoul may leave, with his life but not his heart, but didn't the phantom leave it up to me? This is my choice._

The girl approached the Phantom slowly, her dress drenched with the waters surrounding the night liver's home. She saw his face, his distortion, but did not look away. His face was but a piece of him, and of many pieces of which his puzzle bore. She had decided.

"Pitiful creature of darkness, What kind of life had you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone."

With the aria she was in trance of her decision. Hardly thinking, she kissed him. She held on to him, and she knew he gave in. She pulled away and thought for a moment of what she was doing. The tears that the Phantom shed surprised her, but she kissed him again, longing for more, though she knew not why.

With her second kiss to the man that had been so abandoned by love, he pulled back and looked at her, the tears now seemed to be of agony. Perhaps his thoughts were merely about how she could never love him, because he immediately broke out.

"_Take her, go with him forget all of this. Promise me you'll never tell of the angel in hell!"_

Confused the girl stood. She could see clearly the pain, the suffering in his face. But how could she comfort him? Christine looked on in awe at the music master she had grown to-what? Fear? Lust? Love? She shuddered at the thought. Only the cry of Raoul at the grate disturbed her thought. Like an instinct she released him, and he drew her in for a kiss. _Like a hero._ Christine Daae thought. But it wasn't so full of life and rich fullness that accompanied the man that was the phantom. No. But she pushed the thoughts deep into the back of her mind.

Turning to leave with Raoul at the lead, she looked back as if to plead with the Phantom. She knew not the reason she wanted to help this man. He had killed, he had tricked her, and he had threatened her fiancée. But he had also showed her the joy of music, showed her love, and brought her to feel compassion for others less fortunate as herself. Her hazel eyes gleamed brightly at him, glassy through tears even in the darkness of this man's home. His reply to her pleading glance was one of pain. He yelled out at her, perhaps to save his lonely heart from the thought that one could love him.

"GO NOW! GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!"

She realized she could do nothing. He wouldn't be able to accept her love. _Was it love? _She thought. _Or maybe it is lust. The spark I feel when his musical hands caress me. _She closed her eyes at the thought of the Don Juan performance. Snapping out of the trance by a yell of Raoul, she stepped into the boat and glided back to the life above the underground.

CHAPTER Two

Days followed, and Christine knew she would never feel the same. In the silent times before she lay to rest, with the room dark as the Phantom's lair and her blanket wrapped around her shoulders she thought of his lips on her own. The lightness of the touch followed by a rich desire that she had never found with Raoul. She was still engaged to him, but her heart was unmoved by his jubilant behavior in the weeks leading up to the day she would become Vicomtess of Changy. She would shudder and every time Raoul caressed her, or made the slightest touch of intimacy, she drew back and would shiver, for it would never be the same. To have felt something like the touch of her angel of music and to know there was nothing like it-she would weep sometimes. Raoul would see her crying, but never calm her, comfort her like the Phantom had when she was in need. She needed to leave this place.

Thinking the unthinkable, she dressed in the middle of the night. Like a deep connection of some unknown force, she somehow knew he would still be there. She reached into the back of her closet. Christine smiled. _Past the Point of No Return _she sang softly to her self as she slipped her favorite-and most sacred dress. It was the one she wore in Don Juan, and it had the most sensual memory she had every shared woven invisibly into its fine cloth. It really was quite beautiful and she knew he felt the same. To know that he desired her, not just a child's love, no, no. He loved her with the rich burning desire that consumes one in the night. Or where you will die without the other person near by your side. Strangely enough, she felt that way about him. Just a few caresses a few kisses, but the music and his feeling soul was what won her heart right away.

Closing the small bag she carried, she glanced around the room she was never to see again. _Penez of Moi, mon ange, Penez of Moi. _(1 def)

Creeping down the stairs, she slipped out of the door into the streets of the night, only the lamplights leading her to her love. She knew that only whores and villains walked alone at night. But Christine had no other way to get to the Opera for the Vicomte's driver would tell of her journey to the Phantom's lair. _He must never know_ she thought as she continued on into the night.

She reached the Opera house, and it appeared empty. But she realized that since the fire, the only being that would be there would be him. She calmed herself down. Would she be ready to face him after all that had happened? How would he behave to her coming back into his life? Time would tell.

Christine slowly walked through the familiar passages, ventured past one using his horse, and then, the water. There was no boat, but that didn't stop her. She had waited over a month for this and she was ready. The water was icy, but not freezing, but her heavy rich clothes weighted her down. She discarded the first two layers, leaving her petticoat and a thin layer of cloth of sky blue on. She swam through the water, desperate to see the other side, to see _him._

Arriving upon the shore left her stomach churning-she was feeling empty and nervous in anticipation of what was to come. His face she could remember, but was she actually ready to see it once again face to face? She continued on.

Christine came upon the organ, and the very dwelling of the man who she had come to love. It had been trashed, but not burned in the fire. The papers of his wonderful works of art were strewn on the floor, with the organ covered in dust. Her small milky white hand softy brushed along the keys of the organ, dusting the gathering particles onto the floor. She gasped as a figure grabbed her shoulder. Turning to look, she was face to face with the Phantom. They were silent there, as if in a trance. She looked into his eyes she had not seen for so long, and she was met with an unreadable stare.

She couldn't tell if he was glad to see her, or even disgusted. Christine tried to read the man but couldn't. Christine gasped at his touch. It had been so long; she had forgotten the thrill of it. He still wore his mask, she noticed. He cleared his throat and looked at her, as if he wondered if she was really there. Christine answered his silent question with a kiss. The Phantom seemed surprised, but returned it wholeheartedly. She knew she had made the right choice, but still she feared his reaction. He drew back and looked at her with pain once more.


	2. Meetings

The Phantom's face looked at her, questioning her at first and then he ordered, "What is the meaning of this!" His harsh tone scared her, but she knew she had hurt him, and he must have been dying inside ever since the Don Juan performance. She looked at him, a lone tear trickling down her face, and she replied softly, with her hand cupping his left side of his face, "Angel, it has taken me too long to realize how much you mean to me. Please forgive me."

He put his hand over hers, still upon his face, and held it to his cheek. The Phantom closed his eyes for a second, breathed, and opened them again, looking at Christine. "My dear, what do you speak of?" His eyes burned into her own, and she stared, "I want to be with you, Angel." Just then, the Phantom cracked a hollow smile and shook his head.

"I am sure the Vicomte has made you very happy, and I do not need your sympathy." He turned from her, returning to the stairs by his organ. Christine followed him and took his hand, which was resting on it's keys. The Phantom turned to look at her and she replied with empathy, "But he doesn't make me happy. You should know by now, that after that night," His expression became dark as she continued, "I couldn't think about anyone other than you." His unbelieving face searched her for truth, but seemed to not find any as he moved further away and retorted with angst, "I said I didn't need your sympathy!" Before now, his yelling would have frightened her, but now she seemed unscathed by its fierceness. "But, Angel." She ran to him, "This is not sympathy."

Christine reached for his hand and placed it upon her chest, "My heart beats for you now. Please, "She looked at him with pleading eyes, "believe that I love you." The Phantom relaxed, and slowed his breath from his previous aggravation. "Christine." He said, "You are not serious. You do not know what you are doing. Turn now, and the Vicomte may still take you back. Christine," He continued, "You do not want to spend your days with me. My face-"

She stopped him and finished, "is beautiful." Christine took off his mask deftly. He reached to cover the abhorrent part of his face, but she stopped him. "You do not need to hide, dear Angel." She cupped the bad side in her hands, the rough surface unfaze her as she kissed it softly. He looked at her in shock. _How can she touch my horrid face? Why doesn't she draw back in fear, or disgust? _The Phantom thought this as he dared to touch her. He held her cheek in his hands gingerly, as if afraid he might break her like a china doll. _He is so untrusting; _Christine thought _I have to teach him that there is more to him than his face._

Their conversing eyes filled the silence that followed. Questions left unspoken resulted in another kiss, the two drawn to one another, more trusting, less fearful of betrayal or reaction. Their lips clasped onto another's like a finished puzzle and the moment was savored, like the closing of the curtains after an intense opera, the two stood, and embraced one another like long lost companions.

I am SO sorry it's so short! I felt it was right to end it here, and I sort of need advise for the next chapter. I'd like to see how you all would like the story's direction to go. I also really wanted to update for all readers, because I hate it when people wait like a year to update. Should this be angst and romantic or just romantic? I am open for suggestions. Thanks for reviews!


	3. To Find My Love in Darkness

**Meanwhile, back at the Vicomte de Chagney Mansion. **

Raoul sat quietly, sitting in a chair by the fireplace that wasn't lit. He fingered a small piece of paper in his hands and sat there as if in deep thought. Finally, he threw the paper unto the floor in anger as he rose from the chair and called his servant, Nicoletta, and began to instruct her, "I want the horses ready for a small journey I plan to make tonight. Tell Alfonso to be ready by eight." "Yes sir" the small girl replied and left the room to make the arrangements. "She will be my wife." He uttered to no one in particular as he readied to change into his travel attire.

**Back at the basement of the Opera. **

Watching him had become her hobby. He was so beautiful, even without his mask, she just could not fathom why he had never had been shown compassion or love. For the last hour they had enjoyed constant singing and creation of songs, and now it was clear that he could almost believe her. Christine studied the Phantom and thought about his life. _Shall I always call him Phantom or Angel or nothing at all? He must have a proper name with which I could address him._

Stewing on this matter had lasted long enough. She walked over to the man who was now pressing notes onto a paper while sitting at the organ. He looked up at her in her sudden arrival. "Angel, you must have a name. Please, do you have a name, and may I be the one to call you it?" Christine gazed at him. She knew she was being pretty rude, but at the moment it didn't matter to her. She was desperately curious. The Phantom turned away and walked down the steps into his room with the swan, sat down in a chair and held the monkey music box in his hands, brushing over the material and thinking to himself about what she had just asked.

"I don't think that I ever deserved a name." He began, and her heart was sore for his words, "My mother had abandoned me soon after my birth, and I found myself with the gypsies. But before she sent me away, I saw the sad look in her eyes as she whispered in agony to herself, ' Erik would never want this, this creature to be named after himself. Take him away' So there I was named. I took the name of my father anyway, for it was what I was going to be called. So, yes, Christine, I have a name. It's Erik."

"Oh, Erik!" She cried with the sad story and she embraced him, but he was stiff this time. She pulled away. "Mademoiselle, you are still engaged, and I cannot consent your behavior."

His sudden rejection of her shocked the girl out of her mind. _What is he talking about? _"We talked about this already, Erik, and I am no longer his bride to be. You know that." He shook his head, "But I cannot hold you, cannot touch you without this feeling in the back of my mind that this is but a game to you." She stared at him; "This is _not _a game for me, Erik. It is as real for me as it is for you. I did make my leaving the count known. I left him a letter, stating I had gone to England to enter the convent. In thinking of your safety I didn't bother to tell him that I had left him for you."

"Thinking of his opinion of you, you did not tell him." The Phantom replied.

"No, Erik, my angel. Please. Do not think of me so superficial. I am here with you now aren't I. And though no one knows now, it doesn't mean I won't tell them, when we are safe from the Vicomte. You know how he tried to kill you the last time you fought. And I couldn't bear it if you had killed another man because it burdens you as well as me. And all of France would be looking for you once more. Please," She touched his face with her hand, "Don't think I don't love you."

"But how could-" He began, but she put her finger to his mouth, "Shhh….don't do this to yourself. I love you, and that's all that matters." She kissed him lightly and turned in for the night.

Back at the Changy Mansion 

"The horses are ready sir." Alfonso informed his master. "Good, Alfonso, then we'll be on our way. The driver got in the seat in front, and his master boarded the carriage. "Where to sir?" The vicomte spat, "Westminster Abbey" The driver looked at him as if he was crazy, "But, but sir-Westminster Abbey is more than a week's journey from here." "Then we better get started. We will rest at taverns on the way, Alfonso, and the horses will get their rest." The driver shook his head and started the horses, and they traveled into the distance oblivious to truth.

Sorry once again this is so short, but again I like to update faster for your happiness. Please, I am open to all suggestions and please review. If you want to e-mail with ideas or info that I've missed, etc. Please do so. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Aeropostale Fanatic


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